


Hopes, Dreams, and Playthings

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Shopping with the Captain [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, american girl dolls, daddy killian, mommy emma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: Killian Jones will search any realm and face any foe to acquire the heart's desire of his two favorite girls. Even if its the high-pitched chaos of the American Girl Store or the terrifying bidding wars of EBay. A Christmas installment of my Shopping with the Captain series. Can be read alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> * This is the first story in this series to be more than one chapter. There was just so much that I wanted to do with this, that I decided to split it up into two chapters. This first one honestly doesn't have much Christmas in it, but the next chapter will be all Christmas. (And I promise to have it up by the end of the week.)  
> * Since this series has already ended up being canon divergent anyway, I decided to bring Robin back from the dead. I mean, why not?  
> * I based this on the American Girl store in Atlanta, which I'm sure differs from the one in New York. So apologies for any errors.

              According to David, Killian was supposed to count himself lucky that he was married to a “low-maintenance woman.” It was a 21st century term that took some explaining for Killian to understand.

              “You see,” David had explained across the booth at Granny’s as he sipped on his coffee, “not all women are like Emma. Some are _high_ maintenance. Take Jasmine, for example. Remember how much trouble Aladdin was in when he didn’t get her that diamond tennis bracelet she was eyeing when their twins were born?”

              Killian chuckled. “Aye. Emma thought the whole idea of a _push present_ was ridiculous.” She had actually gone on a five minute tirade, blowing a strand of hair out of her face as she rolled her eyes and panned, _The damn kid is the present, lady, get over yourself!_

“See,” David said with a sweeping gesture of his hand, “low maintenance.”

              “So Emma is low maintenance because she doesn’t give a fig about expensive jewelry?”

              David waved his hand in front of him as he shook his head. “No, no, no. Take Belle, for instance. How many pairs of shoes does that woman own?”

              “The hell if I know. She seems to wear a different pair every time I see her.”

              “And how many does Emma own?” David prompted with a lift of his eyebrows.

              Killian’s brow furrowed as he thought about it. “One pair of brown boots, one pair of black, a pair of those ridiculous things called sneakers, and a pair of flats. Oh! And I think she has a pair of heels way in the back of the closet.”

              David gave him a knowing nod of his head. Killian thought now he saw where David was going with this. He catalogued in his head all of the major couples in Storybrooke. Robin was always complaining about the cost of Regina’s salon visits while Emma only ever needed a quick trim of her golden locks. Aurora insisted on buying all of her clothes at high end boutiques while Emma drove out of Storybrooke to find bargains on vintage clothes at thrift stores. Yes, he could definitely see that David was right. He was incredibly blessed with a no-nonsense, practical wife.

              “And I take it you are thus blessed?” he asked the Prince.

              David leaned back, arching both brows sardonically. “Have you seen my wife’s wardrobe? How many sundress/cardigan combos can one woman need? And have you noticed her pea coat addiction?”

              Come to think of it, he had. Yet Emma had one parka and her trademark red leather jacket. She had worn the same knitted beanie, scarf, and gloves the entire time he had known her until three Christmases ago. Killian had gotten Granny to knit her new ones in charcoal gray with the cygnet constellation sewn into the end of the scarf. Emma had been so thrilled with it, she had tackled him to the couch. Killian chuckled at the memory.

              “While my wife thanked me rather enthusiastically for a simple set of knitted outerwear.”

              Despite his daughter’s fifteen years of marriage to the pirate, David scowled at his son-in-law. “I remember. Believe me.”

              Yes, Emma was low maintenance. Which was why the entire fiasco with the doll took Killian so completely by surprise. Looking back, there had been signs. The first being Emma’s uncharacteristic reaction to a glossy catalogue that arrived in the mail one fall day. She had gasped, her eyes lighting up like a child’s, and had immediately called for their six-year-old daughter, Briar Rose. The pair of them sat on the couch oohing and ahhing over the contents for half an hour. Killian thought perhaps it was the Toys R Us Christmas mailing until he remembered that it wasn’t even Halloween yet. Despite his slight curiosity, he shrugged it off.

              Briar Rose carried the catalogue with her for so long, that the thing became wrinkled and the pages started falling out. Killian snatched up one of them and turned to toss it in the trash when Briar Rose screamed in horror. She snatched the crumpled page from him and shoved it back inside the well-worn catalogue. But, then again, he’d seen his nine year old Evan do the same with a magazine about the newest Star Wars film, so he paid it little mind. Until Emma stopped him the next day from throwing away what looked for all the world like trash.

              “Briar Rose is keeping this,” she scolded, smoothing the glossy page free of wrinkles against her thigh.

              Once trick or treating had come and gone, the Toys R Us mailing _did_ arrive. Emma handed it off to Evan with barely a glance as their son fist-pumped and shouted, “Yes!” Emma paused, however, on a second colorful mailing. She clutched it to her chest and called for Briar Rose. Killian spied the cover – two little girls in bright dresses standing in front of a Christmas tree, clutching dolls dressed in their own festive dresses to match those of the girls. So it was a doll catalogue. Killian smiled fondly as he watched his two girls peruse its pages, Briar Rose circling things with a sparkly purple pen. If Briar Rose wanted a doll for Christmas, he could handle that. They were never more than twenty five dollars, tops. She usually got one every Christmas. Why should this year be any different?

              It was much different, as Killian soon learned. The very next day, Briar Rose scrambled onto his lap with the catalogue in her hand. Emma hovered nearby behind the couch.

              “Daddy,” Briar Rose began, that title in her little sing-song voice already turning his insides to mush, “this is the doll I want for Christmas.”

              She pointed to a two-page spread of a doll called Mary Ellen. It’s strawberry-blonde hair was done up in a perky ponytail, and it wore a dress and cardigan reminiscent of Snow. Yet Killian’s eyes zeroed in on the three little numbers at the bottom of the page with a dollar sign in front of them.

              “A hundred and fifteen dollars!” he shouted incredulously. He made the mistake of glancing down at his daughter, whose green eyes grew large at his outburst. Killian cleared his throat and took a deep breath before continuing in a calmer voice, “Don’t you think that’s a lot for just a doll, little love?”

              “But Daddy,” Briar Rose pouted, flipping a few pages and pointing at more pictures, “her dog looks just like Copper, and she has a diner like Granny’s.”

              “They’re historical dolls, Killian,” Emma explained from behind him, “it teaches little girls American history.”

              But Emma’s words seemed to come from far away as the dollar amount for the doll-sized diner swam before his eyes. “T-two h-hundred and seventy-five dollars for a toy diner!” he choked out.

              “Oh, I don’t want _that_ ,” Briar Rose scoffed, “but I do want her dog Scooter. Isn’t he cute?”

              Killian blinked at the cost of twenty-two dollars for a three inch tall, three inch long miniature dachshund. He shook his head and shut the catalogue. “No, sweetheart, I’m sorry. These toys are simply too expensive.”

              “But Mommy s-said,” stuttered his little girl, her eyes brimming with tears and her little lips trembling, “she said Santa could bring it for me. That all girls should have an American Girl doll.”

              Killian sat there baffled as Briar Rose snatched the catalogue from his hands and fled upstairs. He sighed wearily and ran a hand down his face and turned towards Emma. He started to see her standing there, glowering at him with her arms crossed.

              “What did you go and do that for?” she snapped.

              “Are you serious?” he snapped back, thoroughly confused. “We’ve always had this rule for Christmas, Swan. Any toy over fifty dollars is an automatic no. You had no problem saying no to Evan’s Millennium Falcon Lego set or that three foot tall Hot Wheels monstrosity Ian wanted.”

              “This is different, Killian. This is an _American Girl_ doll!”

              “You keep saying that like it’s supposed to mean something to me! Is this about it being educational? Because I can sure as hell find better ways to teach her history than a doll that costs over a hundred dollars!” He took deep, cleansing breaths and ran his hand through his hair. He didn’t want to fight about this! “Look, didn’t we see dolls like that at Walmart for way cheaper?”

              He wasn’t sure what he had said that was so wrong, but Emma’s expression showed complete betrayal. Her brow furrowed, her chin trembled, and she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. All things she did when she wanted to cry but wouldn’t. “It’s not the same, Killian,” she hissed at him, then turned on her heel and marched loudly up the stairs.

              Bloody hell! He had stepped into some kind of mine-field, he just wasn’t sure what it was. He followed his wife up the stairs and walked cautiously into their bedroom. He found Emma standing by their bed, folding laundry. She pulled out a pair of his briefs and he winced as she gave them a good, snapping flick. By the spark in her eyes, he was pretty sure she was imagining giving him a good kick in the jewels while wearing them. He eased slowly onto the bed before speaking gently.

              “This is about more than a doll, isn’t it?”

              Emma pursed her lips and seemed to ignore him, concentrating all the more on the laundry. He waited patiently as she stomped back and forth to the bureau drawer. Finally, she tossed aside a t-shirt with a loud sigh and crawled into bed with him, curling herself against his chest. She pulled his arm across her waist and fiddled with his hook as she began her story.

              “When I was about Briar Rose’s age, some girls at school had a catalogue with those dolls in it. There was this one doll. Kirsten. And I just loved her. She had blonde hair –“

              “And let me guess,” he interrupted. “Green eyes.”

              “No,” she corrected, twisting her head to look up at him. She reached up and traced his cheek with her finger tips. “They were blue.” She gave him a small smile, then dropped her hand before continuing the story. “Anyway, the hair was in two braids, looped up with bows. And she was a pioneer doll with a blue dress dotted in flowers.”

              “A pioneer doll?”

              “Yeah, like that book Belle was recommending you read to Briar Rose? _Little House on the Prairie?”_

“Oh,” Killian nodded, “and like that movie we watched – _Tombstone_?”

              Emma laughed for the first time that evening, “Sort of, yes, but much less violent.”

              Killian nodded. He didn’t completely understand this _Western_ period of his adopted homeland, but they certainly seemed proud of it, judging by the amount of books, movies, and tv shows dedicated to it. It was no wonder there was a doll, too.

              “Anyway,” Emma continued, “I wanted her for Christmas _so much_. I thought I had a chance to actually get her from Santa because the foster family I was with actually took us to sit on Santa’s lap. That was the first and only time I got to do that, actually. Well, to make a long story short, on Christmas morning –“

              “No Kirsten.” Killian held her a bit tighter, thinking of his Emma as a disappointed little girl.

              “No Kirsten. One of those cheap knock-offs you mentioned, tough. She had brown hair and brown eyes and a cheap outfit that felt like paper. Her arm popped off by the end of the day.

              Emma let out a long, shaky breath.

              That’s when I stopped believing in Santa.”

              Silence fell between them for a few moments, and then Emma sat up, rubbing at the tears that stained her cheeks. “Emma,” he said softly.

              Emma turned to him with a shrug, “It’s silly. I realize that now. You’re right. The doll is too expensive.”

              She went to get up, but Killian grabbed her hand and pulled her back down next to him. He brushed the hair from her face and placed a kiss against her temple. When he pulled back, he smiled and said, “Why don’t you go online right now and order that doll for Briar Rose?”

              Emma’s eyes lit up with childlike delight. “Are you serious?”

              His own grin felt a mile wide. “Yes, let’s get the doll.”

              Emma squealed and threw her arms around his neck. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist your little girl,” she teased against his neck.

              But for once, Emma was wrong. He wasn’t doing this for Briar Rose.

                            ******************************************************

              Killian had to admit that the look on his little girl’s face Christmas morning was a delight to behold. She also adored Mary Ellen far more than any other doll she owned, taking her practically everywhere. Yet the drain on the Jones family budget where American Girl was concerned had only just begun.

              The catalogues kept coming, month after month, and Briar Rose kept circling with her sparkly purple pen. There were outfits for Mary Ellen, a kitchen set, a doll bed, a school desk. There was even a miniature doll size television set. Briar Rose also wanted dresses for herself so she could match her doll, and since clothes for the doll cost between twenty five and thirty five dollars, the larger versions cost more than Killian’s own leather jacket.

              Emma’s enthusiasm hadn’t waned, either. She actually encouraged Briar Rose, becoming just as excited as their daughter every time a catalogue came in the mail. One afternoon, she came home from thrift store shopping practically bouncing with excitement. In her hands she held a rather heavy piece of doll-size furniture made of dark wood and wrought iron.

              “Look what I found, Killian! I don’t think the thrift store knew what it was, or they wouldn’t have sold it for fifteen bucks!”

              He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what it is, either Swan.”

              She flipped the desk over and showed him the words “Pleasant Company” carved into the bottom of the wood. “This is an original American Girl school desk from the 80s! It was for . . . Samantha, I think.” She shook her head quickly. “Anyway, these things go for like a hundred dollars on line. I can’t _wait_ to give it to Briar Rose for her birthday!”

              Killian couldn’t help smiling at his wife’s enthusiasm as she dashed upstairs to hide her treasure. Briar Rose’s birthday was at the end of February, and it was turning into an American Girl smorgasbord. Emma had booked a hotel room for the three of them plus Snow in New York City so they could take Briar Rose to the actual American Girl store. Emma had also made reservations for brunch in the café there. She had booked it shortly after Christmas, and 10:45 was the only available time slot. The café apparently required reservations months in advance. Killian had a feeling this trip would take him way out of his comfort zone.

              And it would cost him a small fortune, he was sure.

                             **************************************************

              On a freezing cold morning in February, Killian found himself shivering on a New York side walk standing in a line that snaked for two blocks. The line was packed with little girls clutching dolls. They were waiting for the American Girl store to open.

              Employees with bullhorns walked up and down the line, shouting out the countdown for when the store would open: 30 minutes, 20, 10. They asked the girls to shout the name of their favorite doll and asked trivia questions about their stories. It was like a Star Wars movie premier and Disneyworld rolled into one.

Briar Rose bounced on her toes trying to see to the front of the line, so Killian scooped her up. He may be completely out of his element here, but he had to admit that Briar Rose was positively adorable. She had opened her presents the night before, when they first arrived at the hotel. She had loved the desk Emma had gotten her and the Mary Ellen school supplies that Henry had sent. Snow and David’s gift had been Mary Ellen’s school dress with a matching outfit for Briar Rose. His little girl had gotten dressed this morning, dressed her doll, and then set up her tiny school room.

“See, Grandma! I can play school and pretend to be you!”

Briar Rose’s purple gingham dress and matching hair bow complimented her dark hair perfectly. It had grown out, tumbling just past her shoulders, and there was a slight curl to it. Just like her mother and grandmother. Her pale cheeks bloomed with red from the cold, and Killian pulled her little black pea coat tighter around her. She had refused a hat, not wanting to mess up her hair, but Killian adjusted her ear muffs to be sure they were protecting her elvish ears. The only physical trait, besides her hair color, that she had inherited from him.

“How much longer, Daddy?” she asked, stretching to see around the crowds.

“Soon little lass, soon.”

Luckily, his guess had been correct, and with the loud, ear-splitting squeals of hundreds of little girls, the doors opened. They only let in the first 200 customers, but luckily Emma had planned ahead, and they were close enough to the entrance to get in. Briar Rose scrambled down from Killian’s hold, her tiny mouth falling open in awe at the pink doll explosion all around her. She raced immediately to the Mary Ellen section, oohing and aahing at all of the 1950s accessories for her doll.

“Look, it’s Scooter!” she squealed, pulling a tiny stuffed dog from a shelf. She hugged it, kissed it, then showed it to her doll. “They have to be together!”

The adults all chuckled, and Emma knelt down beside her. “You can pick out one item, as long as it’s less than twenty-five dollars, remember? So yes, you can get Scooter, but not until right before we leave.”

“Besides,” Snow added, “you might want to look around. You may see something else you like more than Scooter.”

Briar Rose shook her head firmly, holding the tiny dog tighter. Emma sighed. “We need to hurry to the salon, remember? If you want to get Mary Ellen’s hair done.”

Killian raised his hand and his prosthetic. “Whoah – wait. We’re getting the doll’s hair done?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Briar Rose sighed with an eye roll to rival her mother’s. She held the doll out and cocked her head to the side. “Her hair is a _mess_.”

All three females gave him a look that clearly said he was out of his league here. He sighed and realized that in this situation, he was no longer the Captain. Hell, he was practically right back to being a cabin boy.

He dutifully followed the women to the doll salon where they got an “appointment” for Mary Ellen. They had thirty minutes to wander the store, which inevitably led to purchasing Scooter. Killian’s irritation at spending twenty two dollars on a tiny ball of fluff that could fit in the palm of his hand was lessened when the grandparents in front of him shelled out over five hundred dollars to buy a doll and her entire wardrobe and accessories for their granddaughter. His head spun as he calculated how much money this one store likely raked in in just one day. Who knew playthings could be such a commodity?

When it was time for Mary Ellen’s salon appointment, he couldn’t help his jaw dropping at the prices as Briar Rose leafed through a book of hairstyles. Emma elbowed him and then hissed in his ear, “Don’t say a word, cheapskate. This is her gift from Regina.”

Killian arched a brow at his wife, yet obeyed. Briar Rose grinned and pointed at a hairstyle that cost thirty-two dollars.

“That one,” she said, turning to her mother with a smile, “just like the doll Mommy wanted when she was a little girl.”

Killian looked again, and couldn’t help pressing a kiss to his daughter’s head when he saw the picture.

Two braids, done up in loops.

              ********************************************************

“Uh, actually,” Killian hedged as they were seated in the café, “I think I need to use the restroom before we eat.” He winced at his own horrible subterfuge, but Emma was too busy helping Briar Rose put Mary Ellen in the doll high chair to pay him any attention. He hurried off before the women noticed him.

Killian went back to the historical section of the store. Each doll had its own section devoted to its time period and accessories, but he couldn’t find the one he was looking for, even after walking through the section three times. A perky red head came up to him, a huge smile on her face and an American Girl nametag on her shirt.

“May I help you?”

“Yes,” Killian admitted with relief, “I’m looking for a doll named Kirsten. The pioneer doll?”

The girl’s face fell. “I’m sorry sir, but that doll was retired back in 2010.”

Killian’s expression matched that of the sale’s girl. “It was? You mean you don’t have any? At all?”

The girl glanced around. “Well, other retired dolls have been brought back. Felicity is back, and we brought back Samantha for a little while.”

Killian’s eyes brightened. “So will you be bringing Kirsten back?”

The girl bit her lip. “Um, I’m not really sure. Let me go get my supervisor.”

She hurried away and was quickly back with an older woman in a blouse and slacks. Her face didn’t encourage Killian in the slightest. “I’m so sorry, sir,” she told him, “but the company has no plans for bringing back Kirsten at this time. She’s too . . . white-washed.”

Killian’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“The company is looking to be more . . . diverse. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed doll just doesn’t sell to millennial parents.”

Killian’s frown deepened. “But my wife is blonde.” At the slightly disgusted expressions on the two women’s faces, he lifted his hand and hurried to explain. “No, you see, my wife grew up in the foster care system. She wanted a Kirsten doll, but never got one.” He sighed, knowing he sounded ridiculous. “I just wanted to find one for her.”

The women’s faces both softened, and the younger one clasped her hands beneath her chin. “That is just . . . beautiful,” she sniffled. She glanced at her supervisor, who gave her one firm nod.

“Ebay,” they both told him, simultaneously.

“Ebay?” Killian asked.

The older woman leaned closer, her voice lowering. “The company doesn’t like us to tell people this, but you can find all of our dolls on Ebay. Even the retired ones.”

A grin broke out on Killian’s face. “Ebay,” he repeated, with a nod to the saleswomen, “thank you. Thank you so much!”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him when he returned to their table in the café. “That was a long trip to the little boy’s room.”

Killian avoided her gaze, looking instead at the menu. “There was a long line.”

Emma’s eyebrows lifted clear to her hairline. “In the men’s room? In a doll store?”

“Aye,” was all Killian said as he continued to peruse the menu. Emma gave him a suspicious look. She clearly knew he was lying, but she was going to let it go. He glanced at Snow, who lifted her menu and winked at him. He smiled.

Operation American Girl was a go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter with all the Christmas feels : ) Merry Christmas, everyone! My faithful readers bring me so much encouragement and joy, so I hope this little story give a little back to all of you!

Killian thought he had plenty of time for Operation American Girl. After all, it was only the end of February, and the mission was all about restoring Emma’s Christmas spirit. It wasn’t as if it would take over ten months to find a simple doll.

Apparently, he was misinformed.

He was picking up lunch for himself and Emma at Granny’s one Tuesday in August when Snow spotted him. She sent Neal over to the jukebox with a fistful of quarters and waved him over.

“So,” his mother-in-law asked conspiratorially, “how is Operation White Christmas going?”

Killian arched his brow. “Operation White Christmas?”

“You know,” Snow chuckled, her face scrunching in delight, “your plan to get Emma that doll.”

“Oh, I was calling that Operation American Girl.”

Snow rolled her eyes. “You can’t call it _that_. It’s too obvious. The whole point of a code name is that it’s in code. I thought you were a pirate.”

Only Snow could insult him like that and get away with it. Somehow, with her pixie like smile and bright voice, it didn’t even feel like a cutting remark. Until he thought it over later.

“But white Christmas? It has nothing to do with snow.”

Snow crossed her arms on the table top and leaned forward with a grin on her face, “Yeah, but the song is all about Christmas dreams. Get it?”

Killian leaned back and nodded, “Oh, I see. Okay. Operation White Christmas it is!”

With that said, he turned to get up, but Snow grabbed his arm. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Killian nervously shuffled his feet and shifted the Granny’s to-go back from his hand to his hook. He scratched behind his ears. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like one of Snow’s students who hadn’t done his homework. “Oh, well, it’s only August –“

Snow’s jaw dropped. “You haven’t started looking yet? Killian! Retired American Girl dolls aren’t exactly growing on trees!”

He sighed. “Okay. I’ll stop by the library after work to use the computers there. Can’t let Emma catch me, right?”

Snow sighed in relief as he turned to go. When he reached the door, she called out after him, “And get Belle to help you!”

Bloody hell, he’d been in this realm for over fifteen years now. He knew how to shop on a computer.

              **************************************************

“What did the magic box do to you this time?”

Killian looked up from one of the computers in the Storybrooke public library to find Belle regarding him with a humorous grin on her face. “Nothing,” he muttered.

Belle came over to stand by his side. “Are you sure about that? Because you’re pounding that down arrow pretty hard. At least you’re not using your hook.”

He sighed deeply as he scrolled through the sorry lot of Kirsten dolls on the screen in front of him. “Look at these,” he muttered, waving his hand towards the screen, “thousands of entries, but none of them are acceptable. I mean, look at this one!”

Belle leaned over his shoulder to look at the doll on the screen. Instead of loops of braided blonde hair, this Kirsten doll had a mass of frizzy blonde knots atop her head.

“And they’re still asking a hundred and fifty dollars!”

Belle shook her head. “And this is for Briar Rose for Christmas?”

“No,” Killian sighed, running his hand wearily through his hair, “it’s for Emma. To fulfill a long lost Christmas wish from her sad childhood.”

Belle pulled up a chair and wrapped her arm around Killian’s shoulder, “That is one of the sweetest, most romantic things I have ever heard.”

Killian turned sad eyes towards Belle’s bright, hopeful ones. “If I succeed.”

“You will,” Belle encouraged him. Then she nudged him in the shoulder. “Here, scoot over. Maybe you just need fresh eyes.”

Belle guided the mouse down the page. “How about that one?”

Killian shook his head. “It has the braids but it’s not done up right. How do I know there aren’t other things amiss with the bloody thing?”

“Right,” Belle agree, narrowing her eyes as she continued scrolling, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth. “Oooh, look! Still in the box!”

Killian leaned forward excitedly as Belle pulled up the listing, but he quickly frowned. “Starting bid of $400? I’m not sure I can get away with a purchase like that without discussing it with Emma.” His frown deepened as he continued reading. “And I don’t like the sound of this: _like new?_ ”

“Hmm,” Belle agreed, “I see what you mean. It looks like they put the doll back in the box, but it’s been played with.”

Killian let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back dejectedly in his chair. What if he paid a huge sum for a doll only to get it and see that it was dirty and marred? That wouldn’t do at all.

“This is going to be harder than I thought.”

              *************************************************

After that night, Belle officially joined Operation White Christmas. She not only regularly scoured both Ebay and Amazon, she researched American Girl doll collecting. This knowledge helped her sort through which sellers were reputable and which ones weren’t and armed her with information so she could tell the difference between the genuine thing and a knock-off. She also became an expert on what exactly sellers meant when they said “like new,” “in the box,” or “gently used.” After a month, she had helped Killian bid on three different Kirsten dolls.

He was outbid every time.

In early October, Killian headed eagerly to the library as he read a text from Belle. It read _Found it! This could be the one!_ When he walked through the door, he stopped in his tracks to see David and Snow standing around the computer with Belle.

“What are the pair of you doing here?”

“To help with Operation White Christmas, of course,” David told him. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of silver plastic. “You won’t be outbid this time.”

“No, no,” Killian protested, lifting his hand and hook as he approached, “this has to be from me. It’s my gift to Emma.”

“Killian,” Snow said gently, taking his arm, “please let us do this. Emma has so many sad Christmases because we weren’t there for her. We want to make it up to her.”

David noted the conflict in Killian’s features, so he jumped in. “Besides, how are you going to hide this from Emma if you use your own account?”

Killian sighed. The prince had a point there. Multiple times in this whole search, he had lamented he and Emma’s decision to have a joint checking account and joint credit cards. It meant no secrets, but it also made surprises a little difficult.

“Okay,” he finally relented and chuckled when the royal couple cheered. Snow surprised him with a swift peck to the cheek. “What have we got here, Belle?”

Belle’s face was practically beaming as she gestured to the computer screen. “This one isn’t _like new_ or _excellent condition_ , Killian. This is _brand new, still in the box. NEVER OPENED_!”

Killian exchanged wide grins with his in-laws as he sat excitedly next to Belle. “How is that even possible?”

“Well,” Belle explained, “Kirsten was retired in 2010, right? Well, this is one of the companies that went in and bought hundreds of dolls as soon as the retirement was announced. That way, they can resell them at exorbitant prices for a huge profit.”

Snow shook her head sadly, “How can people take advantage of little girl’s hopes and dreams like that?”

David shrewdly eyed Killian who was thoughtfully rubbing his stubbled chin. “What are you thinking over there, Hook?”

He gave his father-in-law a crooked grin. “I’m thinking this realm never ceases to amaze me. Piracy via playthings. I never would have considered it.”

              *******************************************************

They won the bidding war, but at a hefty price tag of $532. The Charmings insisted on paying for half the doll, which meant Killian owned them $266. They told him he could pay them back in small increments for as long as it took, but that just didn’t sit right with him. He also had to find a way to pay them without Emma finding out, so he started taking various odd jobs. He sold certificates for sailing lessons come spring for people to give as Christmas stocking stuffers. He worked shifts at the tree lot in between his deputy duties. He prepared people’s boats for the coming winter. Until, the week before Christmas, he had earned every penny of the $266, and then some. He wouldn’t give Emma a present that cost him nothing, it was simple as that.

Emma, of course, knew something was up. He answered her questions as cryptically as possible, and when she saw that his secret meant a great deal to him, she let it go. At least it wasn’t as obvious as a credit card charge to “Circle K Vintage Toys” would have been.

The doll was delivered to the farm, of course, and kept hidden there. Killian, however, insisted on at least being there when Snow wrapped it. (In all honesty, he had never wrapped a single one of Emma’s gifts, leaving that either to Henry or to the nuns at their charity gift wrapping event. He had tried, but it was one skill that he just couldn’t seem to manage with his hook). He insisted that the tag read, “From Santa.” When David protested, he stood firm.

“Her disappointment involved Santa, so it has to be from him.”

“But she’s going to know it’s from us,” David argued, “she isn’t six anymore.”

“David,” Snow said gently, her hand resting on his arm, “how about we pretend that she is?”

David swallowed hard and nodded. Killian could see the sheen of tears in his eyes. Snow brushed at one that slipped down her cheek. He was glad now that he had included them in this.

              ******************************************************

On Christmas morning, Emma and Killian sat snuggled together on the couch, each holding a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon as their three children barreled down the stairs. Killian had been the first one up this year and had bothered Emma almost to distraction before she finally agree to join him downstairs.

“What has gotten into you this year?” she had giggled as he nipped at her earlobes to get her to wake up. She had rolled towards him, and his heart had swelled at the sleepy smile on her face.

“I guess I’ve got lots of surprises planned, and I can’t wait to see the looks on my girls’ faces?”

Emma had arched a brow at him. “Is this about the doll diner that I still can’t believe you agreed to?”

Killian had just grinned mischievously. “That and other things,” he had answered, nipping at her neck.

The children now skidded to a halt in front of the tree and the scream that came from Briar Rose’s lips was so loud, Killian was surprised the windows didn’t crack. He and Emma exchanged humorous glances as she fell to her knees before the 1950s diner for her Mary Ellen doll.

“He brought it, he brought it, he brought it!” she screeched over and over again.

Next to him, Emma shook her head as she sipped her cocoa. “Two hundred and thirty-seven dollars. Who’s a sucker for his little princess?”

Killian chuckled into his own mug. He had also discovered the re-sale value of his children’s toys once they outgrew them. But Emma didn’t need to know that.

To keep Emma off the trail, he had placed a present from himself under the tree for her. It was a retro wrist watch she had been admiring at her favorite second-hand store. When she opened it, she smiled with delight and kissed him thoroughly. However, she gave him a suspicious look as she slipped it on her wrist.

“This was what had you putting in hours at the tree farm and the docks?”

Killian shrugged, “And you’re forgetting the miniature Granny’s over there.”

He could tell she wasn’t fooled, but he could also tell she couldn’t quite figure out his end game. He grinned wider as he downed the rest of his cocoa.

Late morning brought the rest of the family. Charming and Neal, followed by Henry, Grace, and their two year old daughter. David shared a glance with Killian that he easily read. He needed to distract his wife so David could slip the wrapped doll under the very back of the Christmas tree. Killian nodded his understanding, then swiped a sprig of mistletoe and grabbed Emma for a thorough kiss.

When he released her, Emma looked slightly starry-eyed, “Well, pirate, what was that for? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Yeah,” David scowled, “what was that for?”

“Oh David,” Snow chuckled, swatting her husband in the chest, “they’ve been married for fifteen years and have three kids. They kiss. And a lot more.”

“I still don’t have to like it,” David quipped as he took a seat by the fire place, “and let’s just see how Killian feels when Briar Rose is kissing under the mistletoe.”

“What will I do under the mistletoe?” Briar Rose asked, looking up from her toy diner.

“Nothing sweetheart,” Killian told her as he gave David a glare, “you will never doing anything under mistletoe with anyone. Ever.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she agree with a shrug.

Snow and Emma laughed. “Let’s remind her of that after she hits puberty,” Emma quipped.

As midday neared, the Jones living room was a sea of wrapping paper. Evan and Neal, as usual, did a thorough search around the tree to be sure they hadn’t missed a single present. Evan stood up with a long, narrow box in his hands.

“Look, Mom,” he said curiously, “it’s for you. From Santa.”

Emma glanced around the room, surprise evident on her face. “Really? For me?”

Her hands trembled as she took the box, and Killian watched her with bated breath. The paper fell away, and a soft gasp left her lips as she saw the face of the blonde-haired doll through the plastic window of the box. She lifted her hand to her mouth as tears slipped down her face.

“A Kirsten doll,” she whispered.

Emma turned to look at Killian, adoration filling her eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him softly. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

“What are you kissing Daddy for?” Ian asked. “Santa brought it.”

Emma pressed her forehead to Killian’s and they both laughed. Killian cleared his throat before answering their five year old. “Right you are, my lad. From Santa and,” he paused and nodded slightly towards Emma’s parents, “his elves.”

Emma’s eyes locked with first her mother and then her father as she lifted the doll from the box and clutched it to her chest. Snow’s eyes swam with tears, and David swallowed at a lump in his throat. Emma lowered her head over the doll as she held their gaze. It was enough.

“We can play dolls together now, Mommy!” Briar Rose cheered, tugging on her mother’s hand. “Come on, let’s play diner!”

Emma held Killian’s gaze for a long moment as she sank to the floor beside their daughter. As he watched his two favorite girls have a tea party with their dolls, he knew deep in his heart that some things –the most precious things - just didn’t have a price tag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This universe has been so much fun to write, especially since these kids are based on my own three. Yet here is where we will leave them. This story officially closes out my Shopping with the Captain series. Thank you everyone for following it!


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